


Today is the Day: Collected Hunter Drabbles

by Coppelia



Category: Hunter X Hunter, InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Crossover, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, M/M, Requests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coppelia/pseuds/Coppelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles as written by request, most requests taken off Plurk. (A.K.A., Kurapika is a shipping bicycle.) Contains snippets of humor, angst, AU, and crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exam Day

“Leorio, you have an exam tomorrow.”

Kurapika lowered the book from his face to level Leorio with a knowing glare. Although Leorio had plenty of conviction in his study habits, Kurapika wouldn’t put it past him to get temporarily sidetracked at least once. In that way, he hadn’t yet achieved Kurapika-level obsession in his goals, yet.

In the lamplight, something glittered in Leorio’s eyes. For a moment, Kurapika couldn’t recognize why that look made him want to squirm, but then he realized: that something in his eyes was a sparkle of mischief. Leorio shifted forward and slinked a hand around Kurapika’s back—as if he could sneak enough not to be noticed.

“If I don’t do something, it’s going to bug me all during the test,” Leorio replied.

Kurapika’s brow narrowed. “Leorio…”

“Oi, it’s _really_ been bugging me. It’s hard to concentrate like this!”

Kurapika sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, it’s important that you’re not distracted during you’re exam.”

He heard Leorio coo deep in his throat next to him and watched as he leaned a little closer. From the corner of Kurapika’s vision, he could see Leorio’s lips already form into a kissing motion. Kurapika pretended to lean in tandem, closing the distance between them…

And then pushed the open book into Leorio’s face.

“No. Get back to studying, Leorio!”


	2. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika/Leorio, author-speculation regarding recent chapters, and therefore an AU.

It’s the final day of the election, at three in the morning, when Kurapika stumbles into the hospital.

It takes the whole of two seconds for him to recognize the person sinking down the post of the doorway before all feeling inside Leorio freezes. He’s numbed. The person inside of Leorio isn’t Leorio anymore, but a puppet controlled by some force far greater than him. His legs and arms move of their own accord as he leaps up from his chair in front of the lobby’s television and rushes to the half-crumpled boy.

“Kurapika, wake up! _Kurapika_!”

The force controlling Leorio’s body shouts like this for a long time, until he starts to realize that Kurapika’s voice is floating out to him. His hands had found and gripped the back of Kurapika’s neck, into his hair. Leorio lets go.

“I’m _awake_ ,” Kurapika says bitterly.

Oh. He knew that voice: the steel-edged one reserved for situations of terror, like when Kurapika learned the Genei Ryodan were still alive or interrogated their leader. Leorio desperately wants to break that barrier and just know Kurapika’s touch for himself, but he resists and clenches his hands at his sides.

Against his better judgment, Leorio practically yells at him, “Where have you been?! You didn’t answer any of our calls!”

“I was…busy,” Kurapika concedes. He licks at the corner of his mouth, and Leorio finally notices that there’s blood on his lips.

He collapses unconscious into Leorio’s arms. He doesn’t know how, but through sheer willpower alone Leorio fights down the spike of dread shooting through his insides, just enough to keep himself together. As he yells out to the nurse, he secures his grip around Kurapika and lifts him up. It’s all he can do.


	3. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika/Killua. Kurapika remembers the unexpected moments in their relationship the most. Mention of character death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is being extended into a larger Kurapika/Killua fic, somewhere between a oneshot and a chapter fic.

In the back of his mind, Kurapika knew none of this could have been predicted. The moments he most clearly remembered, like stepping stones throughout their growing relationship, had stuck with him all the more because he wasn’t able to expect them. Somehow he had the feeling that Killua liked it that way, that he enjoyed setting Kurapika off-edge and out of his comfort zone. In a strange sense, Kurapika didn’t half-mind.

He recalled each memory like a layer building upon the next, spiraling up and up until he could no longer grasp the shape of their relationship to each other. That long-ago memory of Trick Tower when Killua couldn’t sleep, Killua’s expression of anger—mixed with a flicker of worry—at the notion that Kurapika wanted to go after the Genei Ryodan himself. Then there was the lonely blue night when Killua tried to hide his devil’s smile and asked, “Hey. What was it like, killing that guy?” Or the time when Kurapika witnessed his own twisted reflection in Killua’s eyes and didn’t know how to react to what he read there. The year following Killua’s failed attempt to revive Gon, the realization that he wouldn’t wake again, the accidental way Killua caught himself up in Kurapika’s latest hunt for a pair of scarlet eyes—or was it accidental at all?

There was Killua’s sixteenth birthday, spent cornered in the warehouse of an influential businessman, dodging hitmen while trying to find an escape. They’d underestimated their target. Killua injured his dominant arm in a skirmish against a Nen user. Kurapika blamed himself, but he didn’t dare speak those thoughts aloud: to do that would give them more weight than he wanted to mentally tackle right now.

Despite this, Killua knew, and Kurapika knew he knew. And suddenly his cheek burned with the force with which Killua slapped him across the face.

“Idiot,” he said, dragging out the word in a long hiss.

Then, in a movement so swift that he had no time to even react, Killua reached forward and bit Kurapika’s lower lip.

“If we don’t keep on our toes, we’re gonna injure ourselves more, got that?”

The memories unfolded upon themselves one-by-one in a spiral of unpredictable moments. Kurapika wondered what would happen if the memories stopped building, if suddenly the threads by which their relationship throbbed and moved and functioned began to unravel. It wasn’t a matter of survival, but perhaps there was some truth in what Killua suggested: if they didn’t keep on their toes, if they stayed still for too long, they would only hurt themselves with what they knew.


	4. Sentencing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover with Inuyasha, with hints of Kurapika/Sango. "This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. He couldn’t choose this."

He couldn’t believe the Genei Ryodan slipped through his fingers a third time. All this time he believed Chrollo stranded from his own flock, isolated through his lack of Nen. He should have thought of Nen Removal abilities. Nen Removal itself was a rare ability, one that Kurapika knew little about, but he should have understood that wouldn’t stop the Spider. A Spider that moved even with its severed head regrown and its limbs cut off could not live for long in this world; it required death. He would make sure of that.

If he wanted to end this struggle once and for all, however, he would need to move quickly. Kurapika crouched and began scanning the forest’s edge through his binoculars as he ran through his tactical options.

Then he heard a flurry of flame and wind, and from some distance behind him Sango called, “Kurapika!”

He whipped his stance around. Kirara alighted on the top of the building with a low growl, and Sango dropped down from her back, hefting her boomerang over her shoulder. Her voice was slightly muffled by the demon slayer’s mask stretched taut across her face, but despite this her shouts reached him.

“It’s Naraku! He’s taken Kohaku!”

Blood glistened darkly over her forearm, and her chest heaved with the effort to catch her breath. Under normal circumstances, he would rush to her side and check her injury. Under normal circumstances, he would follow her in a heartbeat. Not so long ago the image of Naraku and Chrollo had taken the same shape in his mind, and he promised her that he would help in her mission.

Now Naraku and Chrollo had separated into two distinct forces again. His teeth clenched together; his nerves felt frayed.

“Kurapika!” Sango shouted, a mixture of anger and confusion caught in her throat. She took a couple of hesitant steps forward.

He glanced helplessly to the forest. The tree-line remained undisturbed, though it was too great a distance to be sure without checking through his binoculars.

“Damn it, what’s wrong?” Her voice pitched: “We don’t have time!”

This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. He couldn’t choose this. He couldn’t choose between avenging the souls of his brothers and the safety of Sango. He might never get a chance like this again.

But what would happen if he chose to pursue Chrollo over the protection of Sango? She could die. He’d been in battle with Naraku before, and although he had little experience or knowledge of demons, he knew that the man commanded power often beyond what either Kurapika or Sango could counter. Kurapika tore his eyes away from the forest and glanced back to Sango, imprinting the spurting blood over her forearm on his mind.

Almost by accident he caught her expression, and what he saw there sent ice shooting through his veins. It was the expression Kurapika made the first time he looked in a mirror since the massacre of his clan. The reflection numbed him; he’d never seen such an accidental and yet entirely naked flash of Sango’s vulnerability before.

Somehow he stayed composed enough to find his voice. “…Ah, let’s go.”

He instantly felt the weight of his decision dragging him down, hanging over his head like a sentence. He let the murderer of his clan go. In a paradoxical way, he found he couldn’t regret it enough.


End file.
